Reckless Abandon
by Kouzumi93
Summary: Collection of HitsuHina oneshots, set in a High School realm. Deals with different difficult situations that are dealt with in common lives. AU Some chapters may be connected to one-another later on. Chapter 2 is posted!
1. Car Accident

This story is a collection of mine, which will contain HitsugayaxHinamori stories that are specifically set in a High School universe. This universe may or may not be the same in each chapter, so keep an eye on the author notes of each chapter, where I will mention if it is connected to any of the others in the collection. As of right now, the third chapter may relate to the second, but the third hasn't been written yet.

Anyway, please enjoy this story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the title of this story, which belongs to Blink-182.

Reckless Abandon

By Kouzumi93

Chapter One: Car Crash

_Stop!_

That was all I could hear in my mind.

_Stop! Stop the fucking car! Step on the brakes and stop the fucking car, Toushiro!_

Tires squealed and there was a loud crash that resonated throughout my entire existence. All I could feel was pain and I soon blacked out.

~Flashback~

_I had been in a hurry to get to Hinamori's house, as I had overslept, and now the both of us were going to end up being late for school. I was taking all the back roads to avoid as much traffic as possible. I figured I was over the speed limit, but I never looked down to see exactly how fast I was going._

_At seven fifty-two, I pulled up outside her house. School started in only eight minutes and, on average, it took us twenty five minutes to get there. We were going to be really late, all because I had forgotten to turn my alarm on the night before._

_Hinamori was waiting on her porch when I pulled up and she jumped in the car. No sooner had she shut the car door, I was driving off. I made sure that she put her seat belt on, just in case we managed to get pulled over for speeding, since I knew I was, I just wasn't sure by how much._

_Seven minutes later, we were almost halfway to the school, thanks to my fast, yet rather reckless driving. And the fact that we had not managed to hit any light red yet. Slowing the car down safely for one would have been a bitch._

"_Hitsugaya-kun, slow down. It's no big deal that we'll be late for school. I've never been late yet this year, so it'll be okay for me."_

_I said nothing, hardly moved. I kept watching the road, not relaxing the speed at all. I wasn't allowed to be late or my father was going to revoke my driving privileges based on how late I was. One minute equalled one day and I would be grounded to my house for that whole time as well._

"_Getting pulled over is much worse than being late to school, Hitsugaya-kun. Please slow down."_

"_We're almost there. Cops aren't even out at this time, and they don't bother patrolling the back roads or the area around the school. It'll be fine, Hinamori. Nothing is going to happen."_

"_We're going to be late anyway, Hitsugaya-kun! I just want to get there safely and without any sort of problems whatsoever. So will you please just slow down?"_

_I looked over at her. "Hinamori..."_

_A horn blared and when I looked up, I realized that I had accidentally swerved into the other lane. We were only about twenty feet away from driving straight into another car that was headed straight towards up._

"_Hitsugaya-kun, stop!" Hinamori screamed, obviously just as panicked as I was._

_I couldn't move. I was frozen in fear, afraid of the fate that would await us in just a few seconds. I tried to hit the brakes. I tried to change back into the lane that I was supposed to be in, but it was inevitable._

_We were going to crash, and I'm certain that I saw my life flash before my eyes. I vaguely remember yanking the steering wheel to the left, but I don't even know if I did. Maybe I thought I did because it was the thing I wanted to do most to avoid the collision._

_Hinamori screamed and I probably did too, but I don't remember. I think that Hinamori's screams may have drowned out any screams that I had made. I guess I'll probably never know._

~End Flashback~

I woke up in a dimly lit room and my body was numb all over. I couldn't feel anything and for a moment, I truly thought that I had died. I could hardly remember what had happened to me, nor quite how much time had passed.

Then the memories hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt the whole experience all over again and nearly passed out. Only one thought really dug its way into my mind through that thick memory that was currently plaguing my head: _Where is Hinamori?_

I looked around the room as best as I could with my injuries, but I could see clearly that I was all alone in the room. Through the curtains and the window, I could see that the sky was dark. That would mean that at least twelve hours had passed since the accident, since it had occurred so early in the morning.

Hinamori was nowhere to be found by me, and because I hadn't wanted to be late to school, I was in a hospital room. _Damn it! I'm such a fool!_ I hadn't listened to Hinamori's serious advise, and now I was paying the price.

Not just me, though. Hinamori was too, and so were the people who were in the other car that I hit. I knew at once that this mistake was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I wished that my life would just end right then.

For now, since I couldn't sit up or move or do anything, I would just rest and deal with all of this when I was up and able to stand on my own two feet. I drifted back off into a dreamless sleep, hoping that when I awoke, some answers would be available to me.

Or that all of this had just been a horrible nightmare that fate was locking me up in until I learned my lesson or it felt that I could be released.

I'm not exactly sure how long I slept for after that, but when I woke up, the sky was blue outside. I noticed someone sitting in the chair on the right side of my bed. I tested my range of motion, turning to look at the figure, surprised when I saw that it was my father. His elbows were propped up on the edge of my bed and his face was buried in his hands.

He wasn't crying, he hadn't been, I figured, and that made me relax a bit. I hadn't seen my father cry since my mother had died three years ago, so if he was crying, that would mean that I was probably not going to make it or he thought that I was already dead.

"Otou-san..." My throat hurt pretty bad, so I was certain that I had spoken much to softly for him to have heard me, but he lifted his head from his hands and turned to look at me. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You're awake, Toushiro. How are you feeling?"

"I can't move much and I can hardly feel anything, but other than that, I'm alright I guess. I mean, I'm alive."

"Yes, well the doctor said that it will be a while until your movement has returned completely. Maybe another two weeks. Until then, you are to rest and restore your energy."

I nodded as best as I could, then decided that I would risk asking the one big thing that I really wanted to know. No, what I just _had_ to know. "Where is Hinamori?"

My father's expression hardly changed, but it did seem to have the aura of foreboding to it. "Rest, Toushiro, and gather your strength. I'll go inform the doctor that you have awakened."

"Hey, wait! Otou-san, tell me where Hinamori is at!" I began to cough, having over-extended my voice past its current limitation. I hated that he wasn't telling me anything about the whereabouts of my best friend.

"Don't worry about it so much, Toushiro. Rest for now and we'll talk later." He left the room and I lay there staring at the ceiling.

_Just rest?_ How could I when I had this eerie feeling in my gut that told me that Hinamori was dead? I couldn't live with myself if I had killed her and my father should have known that silence only brought more questions. Not to mention guilt.

I was not going to rest until my father gave me an accurate, straight answer. I was sure that I had enough willpower to keep me going until my father came back.

But of course, what I really wanted to do was nothing compared to what I desperately needed to do for survival, and I soon found myself slowly starting to sink back into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. I'd have to wait to worry and find out about Hinamori until I was able to stay awake for a long period of time.

So much for willpower, eh?

I almost didn't want to wake up again. If there was even the slightest possibility that she was dead, I didn't want to go back to living in the world that I had cruelly taken her from. Everyone would hate me and I would never be able to face her parents so as to apologize. _No, it would be better if I were dead too._

Despite my negative outlook and wishes to stay asleep, I woke up again in that stark white room. My father was not present in the room this time, and I wasn't quite sure whether that was a good or a bad thing.

I'd say it was a mixture of both. Good because I didn't have to hear him lecturing me about resting, but bad because I wouldn't be able to ask him about Hinamori. Though I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to be told what I was convinced was true, so I lay still, glancing around the room while testing to see what I could and couldn't move.

I managed to sit myself up just a bit using my right arm only, as I discovered that my left one was broken. From the looks of it, both of my legs seemed to be broken as well, but I couldn't be quite so sure, as it could just be that my movement had not returned to them yet. I had to be careful of moving, as everything hurt from the cuts, bruises and burns that covered my body.

After I had myself situated, I managed to get a better view of the hospital room that I was stuck in. It was the standard white room, the only major colour being the light green curtains hanging from the window to my right. Directly across from me rigged on the wall was a silver clock, next to which there was a television that I could probably watch if I wanted to.

That room would have been no problem for most people to deal with, but I hated it. I hated white, especially when it covered an entire room like it did. For some reason, white had always reminded me of death, and that principal had escalated after my mother died.

Suddenly, I heard the door open and then close again. When I looked up to see who it was, I couldn't believe my eyes. I rubbed my eyes just to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating. Nothing changed.

It really was her! Hinamori was standing in my doorway! And-she was alive, albeit somewhat banged up.

"Hitsugaya-kun..." She started, but trailed off as if she didn't know what to say.

"I'm glad that you're alright, Hinamori." I had almost let it slip out that I thought that she was dead, but I caught myself just before I said it. It wasn't the least bit important.

"Yeah." She walked over to me. She sat down in the chair and looked down at the floor as if _she_ was the one who was sorry or ashamed. "I...I thought that you weren't going to make it. Every time that I came in here, you were out cold and up until three days ago, your father told me that you had yet to wake up. I thought you were gone, Hitsugaya-kun."

She began to cry, making me feel even worse for having not listened to her that day in the car. If only I had slowed down, this probably never would have happened. Hinamori wouldn't be sitting there crying, and I wouldn't be so helpless.

"Please don't cry, Hinamori. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

Hinamori said nothing, but it was obvious that she was making an attempt to stop crying, as it became quieter, then was replaced with hiccups.

I'm not entirely aware of exactly when I fell back asleep again, but I'm sure that Hinamori was still in the room. I don't quite recall hearing the door open or close, and I figure that her soft cries and hiccups were what put me to sleep.

I woke up a little while later to someone tapping me on the shoulder. I slowly opened my eyes only to be greeted with brown ones. _Hinamori... _"What is it?"

"You've got a large group of visitors, Hitsugaya-kun." She pointed over me to the other side of the room. I turned my head and saw seven of my school friends sitting around in the room.

With all of them, it made the room a little too crowded, but when you're trapped in a bed and can't move, it doesn't really matter. Besides, they added some splashes of colour around the room, overpowering the white that I so hated.

Thanks to my friends, I found out that I had missed nearly three weeks of school already. Apparently, there was a lot of speculation that I had died, and a large number of students were convinced that that rumour was true. It scared me a bit that they could believe something so serious like that when there was clearly no evidence to prove it.

Eventually, visiting hours ended and all of my friends were forced to leave. Forced to leave me alone in that white room once again.

Two weeks went by like that. My friends would visit, tell me all about what was happening in school in my absence, all while my movement returned and wounds closed up and healed. My father visited me too, and from him I found out the extent of my injuries. My legs had not been broken, I merely could not move them due to the numbness of my body. My left arm, though, was a different story.

Apparently there had been a delay in the airbag system on the driver's side of the car, and during that short delay, my arm had managed to become caught in the steering wheel. When the airbag had finally gone off, it had been disastrous.

I also had a concussion, three broken ribs, and I had been in a coma for two weeks because of the severity of my injuries.

I had also asked about Hinamori and had found out that she was a hell of a lot better off than I was. She too had a concussion, though not quite as severe, a broken collarbone and a few broken ribs. She had been in the hospital for about a week and a half before being released.

I was to go back to school one week after I returned home. That week was for me to get back into the swing of things and do as much schoolwork that I had missed as possible. I wasn't near ready to go back, not after having been gone for five weeks and having half of the student body thinking that I was dead.

To me, it would feel as if I was worlds behind the other students in the work, though I had managed, unfortunately, to keep up with drama, rumours and gossip thanks to Matsumoto's blabbering about every little detail in everyone's lives during the daily visits to my room.

I didn't see how that kind of stuff was going to help me catch up in school, but it would keep me out of trouble with some of the students-recently-turned-bullies. Kids like Grimmjow Jaegerjaques were bullying other kids from lower and upper grades, such as Hanatarou Yamada and Asano Keigo.

If I had not known that he had become such a bully during my absence, it could, and probably would, get pretty ugly.

I had learned one, no, two very important things from this experience of mine: reckless driving very likely could get you or someone you cared about killed, and if your friend gives you advice, you should probably seriously consider it.

It could save a life.

* * *

What do you think? I tried to make it as realistic as I could, but I'm not sure if I've reached it quite yet. I've been told that it's really well written by many (my mother included), so I do hope that you have enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed writing it for you.

Review please! Other chapters may come eventually, but this is it for now. :D


	2. Abuse

It's been a long time since there was an update to this, but there was an incident going on at school that gave me the idea for a new chapter. (I actually found the old themes and chapters I wrote, but they're so lame. I'm probably never going to use them.) This chapter has been redone three times, each with a new theme, but this one, I suppose, will have the biggest effect on people.

I hope you all enjoy it.

Also, I must advise against reading this on the mobile web if your phone battery is almost dead. This is...a bit long.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.

Reckless Abandon

By Kouzumi93

Chapter Two: Abuse

(Hitsugaya's Point of View)

_He's drunk again,_ I thought as I heard the front door slam. A moment later, uneven footsteps thundered through the house, and I wondered yet again how he ever managed to make it home alive, being as drunk as he always was. I jumped up from my desk, tossed the essay I was working on into my backpack, and quietly slipped down the back steps, hoping to avoid a confrontation with the man who was my father only in title.

_Maybe I'll get out of here before he sees me, and I'll head over to my mother's._

I was downstairs in the kitchen with my hand on the knob of the back door when my name was called from behind. Hesitantly, I turned around to see my father standing in the archway to the kitchen, a half-empty bottle of beer still dangling in his hand. "Toushiro, where're ya goin'?" He slurred, noticeably swaying on his feet.

"I-I was going to take a walk." Not exactly a lie. To get to my mother's house, I _would_ have to take a walk.

He stepped closer to me, a strangely unreadable expression plastered on his face. "This late a' night? What fer?"

"To get some fresh air." Again, I wasn't lying. Even with the distance at which he and I stood, I could already tell that my father reeked of cheap whiskey and cigarettes.

It made me sick to my stomach.

He sniffed the air as if he couldn't smell it. No, he probably _couldn't_ smell it. It was all over him, and he'd been around it for hours, surely. "Smells fine in here to me."

_Yep, I thought so. He can't smell a damn thing._

"It's stuffy." I tried to turn the doorknob, only to find it locked. _Shit._ Seeing no other options, I began to slowly make my way back to the stairs I had come down, but such a movement only encouraged him to move in closer.

"You were planning on goin' to that whore's house, weren't you?"

"If you're talking about my _mother_, then yes. I left something over there the last time I visited."

The back of my foot hit the front of the bottom stair. Navigating the stairs backwards would be troublesome, but it was more advisable to attempt the backwards ascent than to go up the stairs normally. That would equate to walking away from my father, which wasn't the best of ideas when he was drunk.

It probably wasn't a good idea when he was sober, either, but I wouldn't know.

"Ya damn liar. Ya 'aven't been to that wretch's place for a' least a month. Ya couldn't 'ave left somethin' there 'nd only realized it now."

"You have absolutely no idea what I do when you're not around, do you? I've been there much more often than you think." Third step up. "But I guess that's not really saying much, since I don't know if you _ever_ think."

He stared at me dumbfounded for a moment, then finally asked: "Why would ya wanna go there so much? There ain't nothin' there that we ain't got here."

I couldn't hold back the retort that I knew I would regret making. "Except my stepfather isn't a _drunk_ like someone I know here, and my mother actually takes care of me. Again, unlike _someone_ here." Sixth step. Halfway there.

That set him off. His face became bright red with ire, and I took that as a cue to turn and dart up the remaining stairs. My _intention_ was to reach and go down the set of stairs that would take me to the front of the house, then run out the front door. Unfortunately, there were times in his drunken state that my father could maintain his balance and coordination. This just so happened to be one of those times.

When I was just one step away from reaching the main stairs, I felt a pressure on my arm and realized that he had caught up to me and grabbed me. He spun me so that I was facing him, then backhanded me across the face so hard it had me reeling—right down the stairs.

I felt pain shoot through my body, and then it all went black.

.*.*.*.

This all started eight years ago when I was seven. My mother had fallen in love with another man and, not wanting to get involved with him while married, divorced my father. What was usually called a custody battle became a custody _war_ over me, and my father somehow ended up winning primary custody. It was supposed to be set up that I would go to my mother's house every other weekend, but my father would occasionally 'forget' or 'lose track of time,' and I once went over two months without even seeing my mother. Throughout the custody battle and the difficult, stressful times, my mother got married to my stepfather, worsening the depression my father had worked himself into. I guess it was around that time when he turned to alcohol for comfort.

The first time he came home drunk, I didn't know what to think. His personality had changed to a mix of anger and sadness, and anything I said or did would worsen the dominant side of the moment. Rather quickly, I learned to keep quiet, stay in my room and isolate myself to keep from setting him off.

Then my mother and stepfather moved back into town, only two blocks away from where my father and I lived. My father's drinking increased, and the sad bit of his drunken personality faded, leaving merely the rage. After that, even my room was not safe anymore, because he would often barge in and accuse me of various things.

I'm not sure when his violence toward the house and furniture transitioned to include me alone. I can't even remember the first time he hit me. I know I used to keep track of it, but I lost count once it got over one hundred. I haven't just been hit, too. I've been burned by the stove, the clothing iron and his cigarettes, hit with glass bottles, and broken more bones in my life than I care to remember anymore.

Everything he did went unnoticed to everyone else. Well, not quite, but I learned how to cover up the scars, bruises, and burns, ignore the pain, and to pretend that everything was fine. Brush off the suspicions, lie about why I was unable to take Gym after a particularly severe beating, joke about my injuries, defend my father and home life.

Just a few short years taught me all of that, but I still can't understand my reasoning behind that last point. Maybe it was just a survival instinct. Maybe I thought that he didn't really _want_ to hurt me, and everything was an accident, because he always would be sure to get me to the hospital if it was necessary. Maybe I'll never know why I incessantly protected him, but I remember thinking that if he got in trouble for what he did, it would be my fault for saying something, and then the beatings would only get worse.

At least if I stayed quiet, the beatings would stay as they were.

Well, that's what I hoped.

.*.*.*.

After my 'trip' down the stairs, I donned a short cast on my right arm for the broken wrist I acquired. It was practically the only injury I had this time, so when Monday came, I was right back in school as if nothing had happened. I considered wearing a long-sleeved shirt or a hoodie to school, but decided against it. It would be pretty obvious that something was wrong with my wrist when I had to struggle to write left-handed. Covering up the cast before anyone saw it was like a sign that I was trying to hide it.

I wanted to hide it, but that would only bring more questions.

I stepped into my homeroom and noticed that almost everyone was already there. I wasn't late, but I wasn't nearly as early as I usually was. I went to my seat and dropped my backpack on my desk, causing the person two desks away to look at me in surprise.

"I was starting to think—Whoa, what happened to _you_?" The redhead, Abarai Renji asked.

"I fell down the stairs a few days ago." As always, what I said was not _quite_ a lie, because there _was_ truth to it. I _had_ indeed fallen down the stairs, just not exactly in the manner I made it out to be.

"Again? How many staircases is it going to take until you realize that you should take the elevator?"

I sat down in my chair and casually looked at him. Our seats were separated only by an empty desk, so I didn't have to worry about having to talk over someone, or someone overhearing. "The stairs started it. Besides, you know firsthand how clumsy I can be." With that, I forced myself to laugh, trying to shake his suspicions.

It didn't work right away, because Abarai narrowed his eyes at me. Of everyone who had ever met me and seen the scars I carried, he was by far the hardest to fool, and I had to be extra careful in my responses to him. It was interesting, though, because he was a complete moron when it came to everything else. "What made you fall this time?"

"My shoelaces were untied."

Without a second thought, he glanced at my sneakers. "Learned your lesson?"

"Obviously. No, Abarai, I'm going to trip on my shoelaces, fall down the stairs, and leave them untied." I smirked. "That's more your style."

He glared at me, then pointed to my cheek. "What happened to your cheek?"

"Eh?" I reached up and ignorantly touched the place on my cheek where my father had hit me. It had bruised, but since it wasn't in the shape of his hand this time, I hadn't found the need to attempt to hide it with something. People bruise their cheeks often enough, right? "Oh, I must have hit it off of something when I fell. No big deal." It was, of course, a prefabricated response. Whenever something happened, I spent a delicate amount of time preparing the scenario, minute details that might be asked about, as well as exactly how I would respond to the questions. Too quick and they knew you were lying. Too slow and it's assumed you were trying to think of a response.

Everything I did had to be _just_ right. I couldn't afford for someone to see through my words.

Abarai studied my face, my actions, _me_ in general, trying to find some sort of flaw in my perfect lie. Something, _anything_ he could point out and use to make me confess the truth, but after a minute he gave up, shrugged his shoulders and put his hands on the back of his head. "Well, if you say so."

Inwardly, I smirked again. _Another success._

When I was sure that he wasn't going to say anything more, I pulled what I would need for class from my backpack, then dropped the half-empty bag on the floor behind my chair. Leaning my chair back on two legs, I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets and turned to stare out the window, just like I did every day. I was spaced out and not paying attention right away, but when it registered in my head that I had never heard the unnaturally soft voice that was speaking, I returned my gaze to the front of the room. There, standing in front of the blackboard, was a petite girl with eyes like chocolate and hair that was so dark a brown it was almost black. She wore an outfit consisting of a purple shirt with three-quarter length sleeves, a pink skirt tied with a light purple sash, and black sandals.

_Great, yet _another_ typical girl joins the class._

"I'm Hinamori Momo. It's nice to meet all of you." She bowed, smiling both nervously and confidently. Well, the smile itself wasn't what was nervous; rather, it was her eyes that betrayed her anxiety.

"Welcome to our class, Hinamori-san. You can take the open seat between the white-haired and red-haired boys there at the back." The teacher instructed, pointing at Abarai and I, and the brunette girl called Hinamori moved in our direction, taking the seat on my right that had been vacant all year long.

"Hi." She greeted as she sat down.

"Hey." I gave a small disinterested wave and returned to looking out the window, so as to daydream for the rest of the class period.

That was not meant to be.

"What did you do to your arm?" Hinamori asked, noticing the cast. I glanced over her shoulder at Abarai, who seemed just as interested in my answer as Hinamori was, even though I had already told him. He was hoping I would get a detail 'wrong,' and would jump at the chance to say something.

"I stepped on my untied shoelace and fell down my stairs."

"Again." Abarai added in a loud whisper.

"Shut it, Abarai."

He ignored me and spoke to Hinamori again. "Anyway, I'm Abarai Renji. That's Hitsugaya Toushiro, the clumsiest kid you'll ever meet."

"Abarai, you're the biggest _idiot_ anyone will ever meet."

"I'd rather be an idiot than a klutz that walks into walls, falls down the stairs, and burns himself on the stove while trying to cook. And almost all of it is when no one is around, of course."

I nearly flinched at how harsh his voice came out at the end, but I managed to keep myself composed. I stole a look at the new girl sitting between us, who seemed to have stopped listening to us in favour of the teacher. "It's not my fault no one ever comes over to my house."

"That's because you never invite anyone over."

"Nobody ever asks."

"Hey! I've asked before! A number of times. You always said no!"

"Exactly. _Nobody_ asks. Besides, I'm always busy studying and whatnot."

"What about over the summer? You didn't _have_ anything to study."

"I was busy."

He scoffed. "Yeah, busy falling down staircases."

"Abarai! Hitsugaya!" The two of us flinched as our names were called by the teacher.

"Y-Yes, Ise-sensei?"

"Would either of you care to tell me what this is?" Our bespectacled teacher asked, gesturing at the board behind her.

I was about to look at the board and respond, but the leaves blowing around outside distracted me, and I said the first thing I thought of. "A math problem?"

"A duck?" Abarai shrugged.

"First off, this is an English class, and secondly," She paused. "Abarai, you're an idiot. Please save your personal conversations for a time when I am not teaching, and pay attention from now on."

Some of the kids in the room were giggling and snickering, but instead of feeling bad or embarrassed, Abarai and I grinned as we apologized for disrupting class, and we promised not to do it again. We knew she didn't believe us, but the lesson continued, this time without our discussion.

But we still weren't listening to her.

.*.*.*.

"Ah, and just when I thought the teachers had given up on yelling at us, we get called out right in front of the new kid." Abarai complained in the lunch line later that day.

"Maybe if _you_ hadn't gotten so loud, Ise-sensei probably would have ignored us and let us go, like she usually does." I plucked a green apple from a bowl and examined it before dropping it onto my tray. It didn't look the greatest, but it was better than usual.

"Actually, it could be because the two of you were arguing _over_ me." Hinamori muttered from behind Abarai.

He turned a saw her, apparently surprised. "Oh hey, it's the new girl!"

"Yes, thank you Captain Obvious." I said while shaking my head at the lunch lady. No way. No meatloaf surprise for me. I know better. "But you can't keep calling her 'The New Kid.' I think she has a name, and that's probably not it."

Hinamori giggled. "If you think too much, you might burn the school down."

"Nah, that'd be him." I pointed at the redhead accepting the meatloaf, and Hinamori laughed again. I think I was starting to like that laugh.

"I'm not so sure. You two seem to be quite the hazardous duo."

"Actually, Toushiro is enough of a hazard on his own. He doesn't need my help there." Abarai took this chance to glare at me once again. Now that there was someone else in our 'group,' he was hoping to get her to see everything I said as he saw it. Rally her into doubting me and asking questions that I couldn't answer.

Even though I had an answer for virtually everything that happened to me.

Before I could respond, Hinamori cut in. "I heard you two talking about that, actually. I mean, it was hard _not_ to, but I was wondering what you meant. I mean, how bad could it really be?"

"How bad? This kid has fallen down the stairs more times than either of us cares to remember or keep track of, occasionally burns his arm on the stove burner because he 'forgets' to turn it off, slips on water while cooking and spills scalding water onto his shoulder, trips and hits his head off of various things, cuts his arm while trying to catch a knife he just dropped, has been attacked by a random dog, and then there was that time a few months ago that he nearly drowned—"

"That's _enough_, Abarai." I slapped my hand over his mouth in an attempt to shut him up, but the damage had already been done, as I looked at Hinamori to find her eyes wide with concern.

"You must be really unlucky. Well, lucky, too, that you're still alive."

_Yeah, some luck._ "It's not _nearly_ as bad as he's making it out to be. All of those incidents have been spread out over the last six or seven years, so it's not like it's _all_ been recent." I let go of Abarai's face but didn't look back at him, for worry of the look he would give me.

"Still, that many serious injuries in your lifetime so far...It's almost unreal."

"Keep in mind, Hinamori, that most, if not all, occur when there's no one around, like when he's at home." Abarai added under his breath, after which I elbowed him in the ribs.

"I told you, that's not my fault!"

"So all of them happen at your house?" Hinamori asked, still in disbelief.

"Not _all_ of them. Like I said, don't listen to Abarai. He's just exaggerating." I realized that maybe I was being too defensive, and tried to think of a way to brush them off. "Besides, I've never had a life-threatening injury yet. Bruises fade and injuries heal. No big deal."

The table became awkwardly silent after that. I stared at the food on my plate, and the other two were doing the same. I had an idea that I hadn't done enough to get at least Hinamori to drop her suspicions (getting Abarai to lay off was impossible. If I knew of a way, it would have been done by then), but there wasn't much else I could say.

After five or so minutes of silence, Abarai broke it. "So where do you live, Hinamori?"

"I live over on Fourth Avenue, a few houses away from that old schoolhouse."

"Hey, you live just a couple of blocks away from me!" The redhead exclaimed, then turned to me. "Doesn't your mother live out that way somewhere, too?

"She used to, but now she lives two blocks from where I live with my father."

"Your parents are divorced, Hitsugaya-kun?" Hinamori sounded cautious in her question, but I was used to it.

"Yeah, since I was seven."

"It must be hard."

"Eh, not really. I still see them both pretty often, so it's not like I don't know one of them."

"You sure do that a lot, don't you?"

"Do what?"

"Brush things off like that."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I do. But whining and complaining about everything isn't going to change anything."

"That's true, but that doesn't mean you should accept it all so easily."

"I never said I accept what happens. I merely acknowledge events and am aware that there's nothing I can do to undo them."

She stared at me for a moment, then smiled. "It must be nice to be able to think that way."

I shrugged, and the rest of the lunch period consisted of mild small talk that I barely paid attention to, and the rest of the school day was much the same. At the final bell, we were dismissed from the school building, and as Abarai, Hinamori (as well as most of the other students) moved as a group toward the other side of town, I made my way to my house alone. Not many of my classmates lived near me. It's not that I lived in a bad area of town or anything, because I certainly didn't. There was just a high number of elderly people in the vicinity of my house.

I never minded walking alone, because I preferred to be on my own, but I had a tendency to think too much at such times. Usually, I had an MP3 player pounding music through my ears so as to keep me from thinking, but I had forgotten it in my room that particular morning.

I tried to focus my thoughts on anything that didn't have any relation to my home life or my father (the subjects rather made me depressed, and I preferred to look normal while anywhere but home), but there weren't many topics that would fit, or that wouldn't end up there after a few minutes. I tried to think about the new girl—Hinamori Momo—but that only worked for so long.

_She's cute, so it's only a matter of time before she lessens her contact with Abarai and myself in favour of the more popular, stuck-up kids. Eventually, she'll probably end up dating one of them, and then Abarai and I can say Goodbye for good. She'd probably never date either of us, especially me, because she's on a completely different level. Besides, if we _were_ dating, we'd only get to see each other in school, since I wouldn't trust to bring her over, or even have my father learn of her. I'd risk his wrath to sneak out every now and then, but it would only be a matter of time until she figured it out..._

_And there goes the plan of _not_ thinking about home._

Shaking my head, I gave up on thinking in general, and just concentrated on my feet as I continued on my way. I hardly had to watch where I was going, because I knew the way by heart, and soon I was standing across the street staring at the surprisingly normal looking house.

And then I noticed my father's truck in the driveway.

Without a second glance, I spun on my heels and took off towards my mother's house. If he was home this early, it could only mean that something undesirable had happened, and even if I wasn't the cause of it, I would certainly become the outlet for his rage. I had made the mistake once before of going home under these circumstances, and that was the first time he had hit me with the clothing iron—while it was on.

_Not doing that again._

.*.*.*.

My mother was home, as I knew she would be, and I asked if I could stay the night, my only explanation being that my father had to work late into the morning.

"Of course, Toushiro! This house is yours just as much as it is Ami's, so you're welcome anytime!" Was her reply, and I felt myself smile. I could always count on her for almost anything, though I knew I would never tell her about my father's treatment of me.

I couldn't break her heart, and I couldn't be sure that I would still be so welcome in the house once she knew.

I would be tainted.

"Thanks, Okaa-san. I'm going to go drop my backpack in my room, and then I'll go pick Ami up from school, if you want." Ami was my seven-year-old half sister, though she was too young to understand the difference between full siblings and half-siblings. Even if she did, she probably would still keep calling me 'Toushi-nii.' Not that I think I'd mind, honestly.

"Oh, she'll be so happy to see you." My mother followed me down the hall to the room I had claimed as mine years ago. As I shook off my jacket, she noticed the cast on my arm. "Oh no, what happened this time?"

"It's nothing. I stepped on my shoelace going down the stairs and fell." I set the jacket on the back of a chair, and dumped my backpack on the floor by the twin-sized bed.

"How bad is it?"

"Just a hairline fracture along my wrist. It'll heal soon enough."

"I hope so. You've been in more casts than I care to remember."

_Now where have I heard _that_ before? _"I'll try to be more careful from now on. I was just in a rush, and forgot about the laces."

She smiled, but it was the kind that was more of a grimace, and I knew that she wanted to say something more. Instead, she didn't, and a few minutes later, I left to walk across town for my sister.

My school had let out at three and the primary school's day was over at three-thirty, so I didn't have much time to dawdle if I was to to pick her up right from the school. To get to the school, I had to go up past Abarai's house, and now Hinamori's house as well.

Even though I had no idea which house was hers.

I smirked slightly as I passed the old schoolhouse that was due to be demolished in a few months. Both of my parents had gone there for middle school, but it had been shut down while they were in high school, since it didn't meet the new safety standards of our prefecture.

The primary school was just a block and a half away, but I found myself suddenly nervous.

That kind of nervous you feel when someone is watching you.

I paused and glanced around the street cautiously, but there was no one in sight, not even in the windows of the surrounding houses. Nothing else was suspicious looking, so I shrugged my shoulders and moved along. Ami's school quickly came into view, and I could see that the little kids were already streaming out of the building.

As I reached a group of parents greeting their eager children, my little sister spotted me. Her green-blue eyes, identical to mine, widened with joy, and she rushed to me in an instant, snagging me into a hug that was surprisingly strong for a seven-year-old.

"Toushi-nii! I haven't seen you for a while!" She said cheerfully, still not breaking the hug.

"But you just saw me last week, Ami. It wasn't that long ago."

"It is to me." Finally, she released me from her hold, but grabbed my hand as we began the walk home.

"Well that's because you're a little kid. Five minutes is a long time for you."

She grinned and looked up at me, and I couldn't help but to grin back. A part of me wished that this was how life could be for me all the time; that I could live with my mother and I wouldn't have to see my father if I didn't want to, that I could be happy for real. But I knew that was impossible. It had to be the way it was. I would be too afraid that he would come looking for me, and everyone else would get dragged into it. While it would have been better for me at first, eventually it would become a disaster.

For the whole walk home, Ami talked about her day, and I listened, making comments and giving congratulations where they were due. It was my personal goal to keep Ami happy; give her the happy, perfect childhood I had lost so suddenly at her age. I didn't want her to have to suffer any of the pain or sadness I'd been enduring for eight years.

"Are you okay, Toushi-nii?" Ami asked suddenly.

"Huh? Why do you ask?"

"'Cause you're squeezing my hand tightly, and you look all serious."

I looked down at our locked hands, where I could see that mine was indeed formed into a fist around her small hand. Immediately, I relaxed the grip on her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry Ami. I spaced out a bit there."

"It's okay. We're home now, anyway." She pointed with her other hand at our mother's house in front of us, and we went inside.

"Okaa-san, we're back!" I called into the house as I removed my sneakers. Ami kicked off her shoes carelessly and ran off into the kitchen, probably looking for our mother.

"Alright! I'll be running down to the supermarket in about an hour to buy ingredients for dinner. Would you like to come along?" Asked my mother as she emerged from the kitchen, still drying her hands on a towel. Ami trailed closely along behind her like a bee, waiting for Okaa-san's attention to be turned to her.

"No, thank you. I want to get my homework done and out of the way before I forget about it. I'm a bit tired, too, so I might go to sleep early tonight." I would need all the energy I could get in order to make it through the next day, what with school and my father's wrath that was surely awaiting me for when I returned home. Well, even a week's worth of sleep would hardly be enough to help me, but I would still attempt to sleep as much as possible.

"Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale, dear."

"I'm fine. I just need a little rest, is all."

"Why don't you get some rest now, and I'll wake you when dinner is ready. You can do your homework then, if you feel up to it." She suggested, but I shook my head.

_Who in their right mind _ever_ feels up to doing homework?_ "No, it's okay. I'll get the homework done first, then sleep."

"Well, alright then. Dinner should be ready sometime around six-thirty."

I nodded and went off to my room, closing the door behind myself once I was in. I considered locking it, but decided against it, since I wasn't at home, where such a thing was almost _required_ to be able to sleep through the night. I picked up my book bag and sat down at my desk to start doing the work from the day. There wasn't too much to be done, so I figured I'd be finished in a little over an hour. Actually, even if there had been a bunch of work, it would probably still have been completed in a relatively short amount of time.

That's what happens when school is too easy.

By the time everything was done, it was nearly five o' clock. My step-father wouldn't be home for another hour, and a half-hour after that was the time my mother said we would eat. Bored, I shoved my schoolbooks back into my book bag and leaned back in the chair to gaze at the ceiling.

It felt nice. It really, really felt nice.

Just being able to sit there, not worrying about my father coming home drunk and beating me for no reason, was a highly refreshing feeling. I didn't have to worry about him looking for me here, since he knew he wasn't welcome. He and my step-father didn't get along the greatest, so they always made an effort to keep their distances from one another. I appreciated it, and I'm sure my mother did, too, because, surely, the last thing she wanted to deal with was a dispute between her husband and her ex-husband.

_Now if only I could just stay here and never go back..._

Apparently, I must have fallen asleep while looking at the ceiling, for the next thing I knew, my step-father was standing over me. I blinked a few times in confusion before sitting up, mildly surprised that I had not tipped the chair over in my sleep. It was getting dark outside, and a quick glance at the digital clock on my desk told me it was already a quarter past six.

"Are you feeling any better?" My step-father, Tamaki, asked. He was a doctor at a local hospital, and he even had a small area of the house dedicated to emergency patients that couldn't wait for an ambulance.

"Yeah, I guess so." Was my reply, but I suppose it wasn't the most honest of answers.

As if he knew that, his hand slid onto my forehead, the coolness of which was surprisingly comforting. "Your forehead feels a bit warm. Are you sure you feel alright?"

"I feel fine."

He gave me a look that said he knew better than to believe what I said, but he didn't call me on it. "Well, dinner is almost ready, so you can come over to the kitchen and join us at the table awhile, if you'd like."

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute." I said, and Tamaki nodded before leaving my room. I waited until he had closed the door to stand up, then stretched my stiff muscles and followed along.

My mother's house was of a decent size, but I'd have to say that one of the largest rooms in the house was the kitchen. My mother was an excellent cook, so I suppose it was only natural for her house to contain such a big kitchen. I've always wondered, though, how they managed to find the house, because most of the other houses in the area were on the smaller side, thus had average- to small-sized kitchens.

In the kitchen was a breakfast nook that was used for all meals of the day, unless more than two people were visiting, or there was a formal occasion that called for a larger table. Ami and Tamaki were already sitting at the table, while my mother stood over the stove stirring something. I took my usual seat right across from my sister, and a few minutes later, my mother began to bring the food to the table.

The conversation that night jumped around quite a bit, so much that I can't really remember all of the things we talked about. I remember that occasionally questions were directed at me, and at one point Tamaki asked about how my father was doing. He didn't actually care much, I figured, but I said something along the lines of, "He's doing fine," and left it at that.

After dinner, Ami helped our mother wash the dishes, Tamaki went to his office, presumably to do paperwork of some sort, and I returned to my room once more. Once there, I rooted through the dresser drawers that were brimming with clothing I kept stored there, trying to find an outfit that my father wouldn't really take notice of if I went home in it.

I found a blue polo with white around the bottom of the sleeves and a pair of black and white plaid shorts. I had similar articles of clothing somewhere at my father's, so I doubted he would be sober enough to ever notice a difference. Hell, I doubted he would even be sober at all.

I set the clothing out on top of the dresser so I wouldn't have to dig for it on the morning, then closed the dresser drawers again. I set the alarm for the morning, and glanced around to make sure there was nothing else that needed to be done. I saw nothing, so I turned off the light and went to sleep.

When I slept at my father's house, I never wanted the morning to come, since I knew that nothing had changed overnight. My father was still an abusive drunk, and no matter how long I slept, it wouldn't change. Things were different when I was at my mother's, because I didn't have to worry about my father being hung-over and doing something to me right before I left for school. It had happened more than once, and I'd had to come up with quick answers as to where the new bruises or cuts had come from. No, nothing like that happened at my mother's.

But that didn't mean I wasn't subconsciously prepared for something to happen. That's why, when my alarm went off in the morning with a different sound than I was used to hearing, I jumped up, completely startled. For just a moment, I completely forgot where I was, but a look at my surroundings reminded me that I wasn't where I didn't want to be.

I calmed myself down and sighed with relief, then got out of bed. Immediately, went to the bathroom and took a shower, changing afterward into the clothing I had set out the night before. My dirty clothing was tossed into a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom, where it would, at some point, get washed and put away.

I gathered my backpack and jacket up after making the bed back up, then proceeded down the hall to the kitchen once more. I could smell breakfast from the moment I opened my door, and the smell became much stronger the closer I got to its source. Instead of finding my mother at the stove, I found Tamaki, whereupon I recalled that he was usually the one who cooked breakfast. My mother stood nearby at a section of the counter making two bento, and I couldn't hold back a smirk. She had always, no matter what, made the best packed lunches. It had been a long time since I'd had one.

_Today will be a good day_, I thought. _Today will be a very good day._

Ami was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if she was still sound asleep. Her school day didn't start at the same time mine did, so she was allotted more time to sleep in the mornings.

I ate my breakfast relatively quickly, a duration of time in which Ami came into the kitchen, latched herself onto me and declared that she didn't want me to leave. Once I pried her off, I tucked my dishes into the sink, grabbed my bento, and bid the three of them farewell. I promised my mother that I would visit again soon, and then I was on my way.

I wasn't really any closer to the school than normal, but I was located a bit closer to a section of the student body. A short walk brought me to a group of them, and I silently tagged along for a while. Being around people would keep down the nagging worry I was beginning to feel.

Upon arrival at the school, I broke away from the other teens and joined Abarai in the shade of a tree near the school's entrance. Hinamori was standing right there with him, and I greeted the two of them. Not long after that, the bell rang, signalling the start of our school day.

For the most part, it was a pretty normal day, up until the second to last period of the day. Hinamori and I had a study hall without Abarai, giving us the chance to talk a bit more without having his highly influential comments thrown in after everything I said.

But I was still nervous about going home, and wasn't exactly in a talking mood. Hinamori, of course, had different ideas.

"So what do your parents do for a living, Hitsugaya-kun?" She asked just before I was about to put my head down to sleep.

"My mother is a housewife, and my step-father is a doctor." I replied simply.

"What about your father?"

I stared at her for just an instant before averting my eyes to the pencil on my desk. "He works at a law firm."

"Is he a lawyer?"

"No. He just works there. Paperwork, or something."

"That's pretty cool, too. My father works on a merchant ship, so I don't get to see him very often, and my mother does maid-work at a number of places."

I almost muttered that I wished my father would work on a ship and be away all the time, but I restrained myself, replying only with a nod of false interest. I hoped she would let me alone for a bit so I could rest some more, but she still wasn't done.

"Where do you live in town? After school yesterday, I noticed that you went off by yourself, opposite of most everyone else."

"I live out by the border between this school's district and another's. If I lived across the street from where I am now, I'd be in another school."

"Oh, so most of the kids on your street don't go here, and that's you walk home by yourself."

"That, and there really aren't many other kids in the area. Mostly old people."

"Have you always lived there?"

I felt my eye twitch. What was with all of the personal questions? "Yeah."

"Must have been lonely as a kid. You know, having no one to play with." She shook her head. "Unless, of course, you have older siblings, or something."

"No, I only have a younger sister." It was quiet for a moment, and I realized that she was trying to figure out if she wanted to ask something or not. "What?"

"Hm? Oh, I was just wondering something, but I don't think it would be—"

"What do you want to know?" _This time?_ I added in my head.

"Ano, what's it like...having your parents divorced?"

"Ah..." I paused, debating how to answer. _It's horrible, I hate it, my father's an ass, I wish I lived at my mother's...Nope, none would work. Have to lie again._ "It's not so bad."

"Do your parents still get along?"

"They...don't really talk much." Hoping to turn the conversation away from me, I turned the question around. "What about your parents? How do they fare being apart so much?"

"My mother handles it well, and my father writes to us every week. When he gets the chance, he calls, so sometimes, it's like he is never gone." Hinamori glanced down at her notebook, and looked like she just remembered something. "Oh, may I borrow your English notebook? For the homework, we needed notes from last week, which I wouldn't possibly have."

"Yeah, let me find it." Glad at the prospect of finally having a quiet class period, I dug through my backpack until I found the object in question. I gladly handed it over, and she stayed quiet for the remainder of the class. I didn't actually get to sleep at all, because after I put my head down, I suddenly found myself worrying about what would happen when I got home.

Which is why, when school ended and Abarai asked me if I wanted to go play a game of football (soccer) at the field near my house, I didn't turn him down. Hinamori would apparently be joining us, but we had to stop by my house first to get a ball. Walking with friends made me temporarily forget the dilemma of dealing with my father after deliberately not going home the day before, but when we stopped across the street and I saw his truck still there, I froze.

_They can't come in,_ I knew at once.

"Hey, why don't you guys go over to the field awhile and make sure there's no one there using it. I'll get the ball and meet you there." I didn't realize how shaky my voice sounded until Abarai grabbed my shoulder.

"We can't go claim the field without a ball."

"We have before. Just go. I'll be right there." I made a gesture at him to move along, but he stood firm.

"You don't want us in your house, Toushiro, that's obvious."

"Listen, my house is a mess right now." I said, even though I wasn't completely sure it was true. "I would very much prefer that you let me get this ball alone."

For a moment, I was almost certain that Abarai wasn't going to back down, for he narrowed those eyes that said he knew more than he would admit and stared down at me. "Five minutes, Toushiro. If you're not at the field in five minutes, I'm coming to look for you."

"Why wouldn't I be there in five minutes?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

A glare passed between us, and before anything else could be said, I turned in a huff and started to my front door. I hesitated when I gripped the knob, and glanced back at the other two. Abarai was watching me intently, but Hinamori was trying to pull him down the street. Finally, when they turned the corner and were out of sight, I opened the door.

'Messy' was an understatement. It seemed that my father had taken his drunken rage out on the house, for there were broken glass bottles everywhere, and the wallpaper was stained and torn. The sofa had tears in it as well, the books had all been thrown from their shelves, the television knocked over and smashed, and the coffee table turned onto its back. The room reeked of alcohol, even worse than usual. I buried my face in my sleeve and looked around again.

I almost didn't see him. I was looking for him in all of the places someone could hide, but he was in a surprisingly open place, sitting in an armchair in the darkest corner of the room, seemingly sleeping. I breathed a sigh of relief and closed the door most of the way, setting my book bag next to it. I silently slipped off my sneakers and took a step forward.

That's when the light glinted off of something in his hand, and I felt my blood run cold.

A pistol. My father had a pistol tucked under his right hand.

He hadn't moved from his chair, didn't twitch or show any sign of being awake, so I clung to the hope that he was sleeping and tiptoed across the room to the staircase. Avoiding the hazardous glass shards everywhere was difficult, but necessary to avoid making noise. I was two steps up on the stairs when I felt something press into the middle of my back. Almost instantaneously, I heard the metallic _CLICK._

.*.*.*.

(Hinamori's Point of View)

As Hitsugaya-kun started across the street, I tried to pull Abarai-kun away. "Come on, he said he'll be there."

"I know what he said, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"About what? His going home?"

"Exactly."

"Why?" I was confused. What was wrong about him going home? Didn't he have to go get the ball, anyway?

"I'm not sure. There's just...something about this that's not right."

"Come on. He's at the door now. Let's just go." I grabbed his sleeve and started tugging, but I couldn't help but to notice our classmate's hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob. Then he looked back at us, and a moment later, Abarai-kun and I had turned a corner. Instead of continuing on, he insisted that we sit there and wait for Hitsugaya-kun to come back. I knew I couldn't change his mind, so as we waited, we talked.

Abarai-kun had known Hitsugaya-kun since they were in middle school, when Abarai-kun transferred in. Even at such a young age, Hitsugaya-kun had more scars than anyone could imagine, but he had an answer for everything that happened. Abarai-kun had suspected something more dangerous than clumsiness was at fault, but there wasn't even a shred of proof. His mother and step-father were respected members of the community, and his father was supposedly a lawyer's assistant. None of them seemed the type to hurt anyone, and there wasn't anyone else in the picture that could be responsible.

I wasn't sure what to think. When I had talked to him earlier in the day, he seemed irritated with _all_ personal questions, to the point that if the answer to his injuries _had_ been mentioned, it would have been difficult to tell. Abarai-kun had it in his head that it was his father, and that was why we were waiting for him.

"Three minutes already." I said, glancing at my watch.

"That's it. I'm going to get him." Abarai-kun stood up and started off, but I grabbed his sleeve again.

"You said if he's not back in five minutes."

"Normally when he goes to get the ball, it takes him less than two minutes."

.*.*.*.

(Hitsugaya's Point of View)

I froze, terrified to turn around, but I knew I had to for the fact that I didn't like not being able to see what he was doing. Quickly, before I changed my mind, I spun to face him, and was surprised once again when a few things became obvious. His eyes were like fire and his mouth was twisted into a scowl as he held the gun aimed at my heart.

But he wasn't drunk. No, he was more sober than I'd seen him in a long time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and that thought petrified me more than even the thought of dying.

"Where were you last night?"

I felt my voice leave me. I was choking on the answer, the lie I knew I had to tell. "I-I—"

"Answer me!" He pressed the gun into my shoulder, and I paled.

"I-I was at a f-friend's house."

_BLAM!_

The bullet fired into my shoulder made me stumble back into the wall, and my arm went numb almost instantly. The gun barrel was smoking, and my father glared at me in hatred. "Wrong answer, boy." He cocked the gun again and pointed it at me. I was too frightened to really notice where it was aimed that time. "Care to try again?"

A misplaced surge of rebellion struck me. "Why? I'm pretty sure you already know where I was."

_BLAM!_

Pain coursed through my left calf and I dropped to the floor, now completely at the mercy of my father. _I have to get out of here,_ I knew, but there was no way I'd be able to. He blocked the bottom of the stairs, and the only direction I had left was up the stairs. Unfortunately, now I couldn't move my leg.

I was doomed.

"You...Why are you doing this?" I felt myself say after a minute or so of tense silence, but it didn't sound like me at all. My voice was becoming distorted. It was quiet, almost strangled sounding.

"Why? You want to know _why?_ You keep going to that bitch's house, that's why! After everything I do for you, you still find it so important to be there almost as much as here. I put food on the table, don't I? I provide for you, take care of you, and yet you betray me constantly! Don't you appreciate anything I do for you?"

His eyes were clear as he awaited my answer, but before I could say anything, two voices cut into the moment.

"Toushiro?"

"Hitsugaya-kun?"

It was Abarai and Hinamori, I saw when I tore my eyes off of my father to look. They were standing next to each other in the doorway, watching what was happening in horror.

But I only saw them for but a moment.

My father jumped as the sound of their voices registered, and his finger twitched on the trigger.

_BLAM!_

.*.*.*.

(Hinamori's Point of View)

"Normally when he goes to get the ball, it takes him less than two minutes."

I didn't understand what difference one minute meant, but just then, we heard what sounded like a gunshot. Without even looking at each other, we dropped our bags and ran down the street to Hitsugaya-kun's house. Just as we stood a few metres from the house, another gunshot sounded, and we knew that it had come from inside.

Abarai-kun and I reached the door at the same time, and I saw that it was open a sliver already. We pushed it open cautiously, and the first thing that came into sight was Hitsugaya-kun's backpack, looking like it had been set down without much thought. Light flooded the room, and I was shocked at the sights that greeted me.

It seemed as if someone had thrown a temper-tantrum in the room, because there was shattered and whole beer bottles everywhere, and the furniture was trashed. By the looks of the walls, I concluded that the shattered bottles had been thrown at them, causing the wallpaper to tear and stain with the alcoholic beverage.

The overwhelming scent of beer in the room added to that point, and I looked up at Abarai-kun. He also seemed to be taking it all in, for the horror-filled expression on his face directly mirrored the one on my own.

Before either of us could say a word, we heard someone start to shout nearby, something about appreciation, or lack thereof. Without taking our shoes off, Abarai-kun and I made our way to the source of the voice, and were greeted with a horrifying scene. Hitsugaya-kun sat only three or four steps up from the bottom of the stairs, covered in blood and awkwardly holding his shoulder, getting his cast stained with the blood flowing from the wound there. Standing over Hitsugaya-kun was a man, whom I presumed to be his father, holding a gun pointed at my fellow student's heart. Hitsugaya-kun's face was deathly pale, in contrast to his father's of cherry red.

When there was a pause meant for Hitsugaya-kun to answer the questions asked by his father, Abarai-kun and I made our presences known. It was one of the biggest blunders we'd made that night.

"Toushiro?"

"Hitsugaya-kun?"

Instantly, his head snapped in our direction, realization dawning in his eyes. At the same time, his father's reaction was a startled jump.

_BLAM!_

The gun went off with a deafening shot, and I found myself flinching at the sound. When I realized what had happened, I screamed, Abarai shouted, the gun clattered noisily to the floor, and Hitsugaya-kun's father stumbled down the few steps he had climbed. Abarai-kun raced forward and grabbed him, pinning him so he couldn't get anywhere, then shouted directions at me. It took me a few precious seconds to realize that he was telling me to call for an ambulance.

_Of course. Of course that's what I have to do._

Because Hitsugaya-kun had been shot in the chest.

.*.*.*.

The rest of that evening passed me by in a blur of events. I remember calling for help, and then trying to calm down enough to explain the situation. The minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive felt like hours, and I feared that Hitsugaya-kun was going to bleed out before it arrived. When it did get to the house, he was rushed out instantly, and then the house was a flood of police, taking pictures and asking questions.

Hitsugaya-kun's father was arrested and taken away for questioning, while Abarai-kun and I were led out onto the street to discuss and explain anything and everything we could. Most questions I couldn't answer, as I had only known him for a very short time, but Abarai was able to reply to almost everything. What felt like ages later, they allowed us to leave, and Abarai-kun took us to get our things that we had ditched at the corner earlier.

Only one more thing had to be done before we could allow ourselves to go to the hospital. Abarai-kun led the way to Hitsugaya-kun's mother's house, where we had to break the news to her. Never before in my life had I seen someone so devastated. The instant the words were out of Abarai-kun's mouth, her hand flew to her mouth and she fell to her knees. Tears welled up and she began crying, soon bringing her husband to the door.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He appeared to be very worried, and leaned down to his wife.

"Get the car," She said as he helped her stand. "W-We have to get to the hospital right away."

"What happened?"

"It's Toushiro. He's been shot."

The man's lips opened and closed, but no sound came out. Then, "Go find Ami. I'll bring the car around front."

Hitsugaya-kun's mother nodded, and Abarai offered to go find the little girl instead. Once he was gone, I was turned to by Hitsugaya-kun's step-father, whose name I now know to be Tamaki.

"Do the two of you need a ride to the hospital, as well?"

I nodded furiously, and it was at that same time that Abarai-kun came out of the house with a blonde-haired little girl of maybe seven or eight years old.

"Okaa-san, what's going on?" She asked her mother, who was still in tears. Rather than responding, her mother leaned down and pulled the girl into a tight embrace.

Tamaki drove the car up next to us a minute later, and we piled into the car. The car ride was deathly silent, except for the sound of crying coming from the passenger's seat. Once we were at the hospital, Tamaki disappeared to make some inquiries, leaving the rest of us to deal with the most difficult part of the day: the wait.

Hitsugaya-kun's mother sat hugging Ami, stroking the girl's back and eventually putting her to sleep. Abarai-kun and I called our parents to let them know what was going on, and then were left to our own devices. Abarai-kun wandered around the waiting room for a while, then left for almost an hour. I scribbled on papers, looked out the windows, observed doctors and nurses rushing through the halls, listened to the announcements that went over the intercom, but nothing helpful emerged.

When Abarai-kun came back, he gave me a look that said he was more than a little worried for our friend's life. I could feel the same way, and he sat down next to me, both of us saying nothing for close to another hour.

Then Tamaki came into the room, a grim-faced doctor at his side.

I feared the worst, and the tears started to well up again, threatening to fall at any second. Hitsugaya-kun's mother stood, alert, but her expression was much the same as mine. Ami still slept, and Abarai-kun's jaw was locked as he fought the urge to demand answers.

Finally, the doctor spoke: "He's been stabilised, and we believe he will live. He's still in surgery, but after that he'll be moved to a secure room in the ICU. Once there, visitors will be limited to family members only."

The tears in my eyes fell, but I couldn't have been happier. I wouldn't be able to see him for a while, but he had lived. That, in and of itself, was enough. I turned to Abarai-kun, who was looking at me with a similar look of relief on his own face.

Before I knew what was happening, he and I were pulled into an embrace by Hitsugaya-kun's mother. She thanked us over and over again, saying that if we hadn't been there, she might have lost her only son. It was because of us that she would still be able to say she was a mother of two.

That's when I realized that if Abarai-kun had trusted Hitsugaya-kun's words and we had just gone to the field to wait for him, he might have been killed, or just left in his house to die, his father getting away with everything he had done to him. What would have happened then?

I pushed those thoughts from my mind and concentrated only on what was happening. He was alive. Maybe it would be a while until he woke up and until I would be able to see him again, but I was content to deal with those uncertain durations.

At some point later that night, Abarai-kun and I were taken home, and as soon as I got into my bedroom, I fell asleep, imagining that Abarai-kun was doing the same thing. With the difficult days that would be coming our way, we were going to need as much sleep as we could get.

.*.*.*.

(Hitsugaya's Point of View)

I became aware of my consciousness long before I actually woke up. I could occasionally hear someone saying something, feel someone touch my hand, but, try as I might, my body refused to listen to me. I couldn't open my eyes or move anything.

Not that I _wanted_ to move much. Everything hurt.

For a time, it had felt like I couldn't breathe, and I concentrated on keeping the darkness from completely setting in around me. A part of me knew that if it did, there was no chance I was ever going to wake up again. Eventually, the pain I felt lessened, and my breathing came a bit easier. I relaxed, and it was around then that the darkness surrounding me began to melt away at a tedious pace.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, they hurt as if I had been locked in a dark room for a few days and hadn't seen a light the whole time. Well, I supposed that was true, in some way or another. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the harsh glow of the overhead lights, I took a careful look around at my surroundings.

It was rather obvious that I was in a hospital room, for the scent of antiseptic and the stark white walls and bed were normally only found in such a place. My left arm and leg were numb, and I still had some difficulty breathing, but the mask over my nose and mouth was supposed to make it easier, I supposed. I didn't see anyone in the room, but I noticed a bag of some sort sitting on a chair to my right. Maybe someone had been there recently...?

Almost as if on cue, the door to my room opened, and in entered my mother, looking exhausted. Her hair was dishevelled, there were bags under her eyes, and she wore no makeup at all. Her clothing was wrinkled as if she had slept in it, and her green-blue eyes seemed to have lost their usual shine.

Until, that is, she realized that I was awake. The downcast expression she wore reversed itself, and she rushed to my side. "Toushiro, honey, you're awake!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but found that I couldn't speak. Distressed, I looked at my mother for the answer, and her expression saddened again for but an instant.

"Your lung was pierced, dear. You shouldn't try to speak for a little while, at least until it has healed completely." I nodded, and she continued to talk. "You're lucky, Toushiro. If your friends had taken any longer, you could have died."

_Friends? What is she—Oh, wait. That's right. Abarai and Hinamori were there, weren't they?_

"I wish...I wish you would have told me what was going on, Toushiro. Told _someone_ what he was doing to you. We could have helped, and he never would have been able to lay another finger on you. We're ensuring that that's how things are going to be from now on, of course, but we could have avoided this nightmare if you had talked to someone."

I looked away guiltily. I knew that, but asking for help...it made me feel weak, like I couldn't handle it on my own. If I couldn't handle a little problem like his mood swings and abusive behaviour, how would I ever be able to handle something bigger?

My mother must have known what I was thinking. "It's not your fault that he did the things he did. It was his fault and his fault alone. He chose of his own free will to drink alcohol. It was his choice to hurt you. And now he's going to pay for those poor decisions."

I was starting to feel a bit sleepy, and my mother took notice almost immediately. She put her hand on my head and ruffled my hair. "Get some more rest, Toushiro. When you're able to talk again, I'll talk the doctors into letting your friends visit you, alright?"

I nodded, and as she kissed me on the cheek, I was already drifting back to sleep.

For the next week or so, I was awake almost as much as I was asleep. Still, my lung wasn't healing like it was supposed to, and I was put on some medications to raise my white blood-cell count. It was the hope that it would encourage the healing process to speed up, which it eventually did.

Another week later, I awoke to find a certain red-head sitting backwards in the chair, staring at me. I had been given the okay to speak the day earlier, but I had yet to do so. Now, I was sure, that was going to change. Abarai wouldn't leave until he got the answers he wanted out of me.

"Why, Toushiro?" He asked almost instantly.

"Why what?" I returned, having a fairly descent idea of exactly what he was asking. It was the same thing my mother had wanted to know, too.

"Why didn't you tell us that your father was abusing you?" His voice was raising, and I could tell he was slightly irritated.

"It wasn't your problem."

His eye twitched. "Not my problem? You're my _friend_, Toushiro. Your problems _are_ my problems." He practically shouted as he stood up from the chair. Instinctively, I flinched, and he realized his mistake. "I'm sorry, Toushiro."

"No, it's alright." I looked down at my hands, the right of which was still in a cast, and just avoided looking at Abarai in general.

"_Alright_? Dammit, _this_ is the attitude that nearly got your reckless ass killed! As long as I've known you, you've always pretended that everything is fine. Apparently, you've alsobeen _abused_ as long as I've known you. No, it's probably been happening for much longer than that, hasn't it?"

I didn't answer.

"How could you allow yourself to be abused for so many years?"

"Because he's my father! If I told someone, there was a chance that the evidence against him would fall short, the conviction would fail, and he would get away with everything. Then the abuse would just have gotten worse."

"You _didn't_ say anything and it _still_ got worse, you idiot! Were you willing to let yourself die just to retain a sliver of pride?"

"I never said anything about pride, Abarai. It was _my_ problem, and I was dealing with it."

"Good job you did there, pal."

"Abarai-kun, you're not helping here." Said another voice from the doorway.

"H-Hinamori? You were here, too?" I asked the brunette as she came further into the room.

"Of course. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I hesitated, then finished the thought. "Thanks for saving me, too."

"That's what friends are for, Toushiro." Abarai slapped his hand down onto my uninjured shoulder and gazed down at me.

I didn't know what to say to that, and only found myself smiling. The two visitors did the same.

.*.*.*.

After I was released from the hospital, my life became relatively normal. My mother was granted full custody of me and I moved in with her, my father was in jail, and life was just better in general. I still retained the scars of my father's abuse, but I used them as a reminder to myself of the past I had left behind. The past I never wished to return to. I had too much in my life that I cared about, and to risk my life again was a stupid idea to the me I had become.

I wasn't aware of when my friendship with Hinamori was upgraded to one of romance, but after we had been dating for a few weeks, I realized that I really couldn't imagine being with anyone else. She and I had been through so much together, and I had a feeling that we would be through much more still.

My father's trial still hasn't occurred, but when a date is finally set, I know that Hinamori, Abarai and I will all have to testify against him. I, personally, am a bit nervous about having to see him again, but with my friends and family right there with me, I know I'll be able to handle it.

Everything really _will_ be alright in the end.

~End~

To clarify, the event from school that inspired this was _not_ an incident of parental abuse, but actually a case of bullying. The kid didn't want to report it, and he wouldn't let _me_ report it. Even though I did anyway. o.O

I'm probably inaccurate on a number of things in here, but I don't really care. If there's something absolutely impossible and it bothers you, tell me what it is and why it's wrong, and I'll fix it. But I can't please everyone, so if it changes my ending too significantly, I may not make the change. Depends on what it would change.

Review, please! If I get around to writing the third chapter, it might end up continuing from this one, but will have a plotline of its own.

Bye bye~~!


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